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Description
Informations
Publié par | Mozaika Publications |
Date de parution | 20 août 2020 |
Nombre de lectures | 10 |
EAN13 | 9781631425158 |
Langue | English |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0012€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
Smoke, Vampires, & Mirrors
Sasha Urban Series: Book 7
Dima Zales
♠ Mozaika Publications ♠
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Excerpt from Dream Walker
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 Dima Zales and Anna Zaires
www.dimazales.com
All rights reserved.
Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
Published by Mozaika Publications, an imprint of Mozaika LLC.
www.mozaikallc.com
Cover by Orina Kafe
www.orinakafe-art.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-63142-515-8
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-63142-516-5
Chapter One
“Nero,” I whisper loudly. Wriggling out of his embrace, I shake him. “Wake up.”
His eyes snap open, then narrow in on my face as he jackknifes to a sitting position.
He must’ve noticed my panic.
“Did you have another nightmare?” he demands.
I blink, momentarily distracted. “ Another nightmare? When did I have the first one?”
“You don’t recall?” Lifting his hand, he rubs the back of my head as if I were a cat. “You were making whimpering noises and soft cries in the middle of the night. Woke me up twice.”
Seriously, nightmares? How come I don’t recall any?
Could I have dreamed about the upcoming apocalypse before I had my awake vision? But no. Dream-based visions went away when I gained conscious control. They must be run-of-the-mill nightmares—and they probably pale in comparison to grim reality.
Nero lowers his hand. “So what’s wrong, then?”
I take in a breath, fighting the urge to put his hand back where it was. “I just had two nightmarish visions.”
“Visions?” He frowns. “What visions?”
I draw in another breath and rattle out that Tartarus—the extremely powerful Cognizant who can feed on whole worlds—is coming to Earth for an all-he-can-eat buffet.
“I saw both of my parents as dried husks,” I say, my chin trembling. “Everyone you and I have ever known will die.”
Nero stares at me, then reaches out and pulls me against his powerful chest, his arms wrapping around me securely. Though soothing, his touch doesn’t calm me—especially when I realize that he’s not actually saying anything in reply to my story.
I was hoping for a “let’s run to Earth and save everyone this very moment” kind of response.
Stroking my back, he kisses my temple. “You sure this wasn’t a nightmare?” he murmurs, continuing to pet me as if I were a chinchilla.
I jerk away. “Of course I’m sure.”
He studies me, then nods. “Okay. Given the circumstances, I had to ask.”
“I was wide awake and stone-cold sober,” I grit out. “And it was two visions in a row. I’m sure this Armageddon is the real deal.” Jumping to my feet, I grab my clothes and furiously pull them on, then stuff the gate sword into the back of my pants.
“Fair enough.” Nero stands up, unconcerned with his nudity. Not that he has any clothes—he flew here in his dragon form. Stepping toward me, he says, “I want you to tell me exactly what happened after I left Earth. Specifically, how you ended up becoming a vampire. You mentioned it briefly at the castle, but I want—”
“What?” My nostrils flare. “I tell you Earth is about to get destroyed, and you want me to tell you a campfire story?”
His jaw tightens. “I need to consider every variable.”
“And I need to know what our plan of action is,” I say sharply.
“So let me get this straight.” Nero leans in. “You don’t find it suspicious that Tartarus shows up so soon after Lilith and Nostradamus—two people who are obsessed with him?”
I stare at him. “I didn’t get a chance to think about that.”
Nero raises his eyebrows, waiting coolly, and I give in with a sigh. I tell him everything, starting with how the chorts attacked Felix and how they would’ve killed Mom and Dad if I hadn’t turned myself in. When I get to the part where they tortured me, Nero’s face looks so frightening I get the feeling the chorts are lucky they’re already dead. I then tell him about Nostradamus’s memories and his quest to avenge his family—who were killed by Tartarus—and how he prophesied to Lilith that Tartarus will be her doom.
“Then Felix used his power to get me Lilith’s phone conversations, and I found out about the setup,” I say toward the end. “She was the one who sicced the chorts on me, and I’m a vampire as a result of that. Can we act now? We need to—”
“Think before we ‘act,’” Nero says. Switching to Russian, he adds, “Measure seven times, cut once.”
“Assuming there’s anything to cut after all the measuring,” I grumble, recognizing the proverb from one of the textbooks I recently studied.
“You want to be proactive? How about you ask your seer powers what needs to be done.”
“How about I what?” I gape at him.
“When I consult seers, I tell them my goal, and they look at the future to find a course of action that can bring about the goal in question.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip. “I’ve never tried something so direct.”
“Do so now,” Nero orders, his gaze falling to my lips.
“Fine.” I close my eyes and do my best to calm down enough to jump into Headspace.
It takes me a few seconds to reach the necessary state of focus, but as soon as I do, I find myself floating, surrounded by vision shapes.
Shapes that don’t seem to be interesting, as the tune they emit is reminiscent of elevator Muzak.
There’s no way these bland visions have anything to do with Tartarus. If I had to guess, they probably foretell Fluffster talking about our yearly paper towel budget, or Felix prattling on about why he loves his favorite computer algorithm.
But if these are not what I need, how do I do what Nero said? How do I “tell” my powers I want to see a vision of something that will prevent Tartarus’s arrival on Earth?
Well, since everything else in Headspace often involves the essence of concepts and people, why don’t I try that?
Somehow.
I float there and do my best to get at the essence of the problem. I channel the grief I felt at seeing my parents’ empty husks. For good measure, I also add in my annoyance at Nero for not instantly jumping into action, and my awe at the enormity of the task at hand.
Even though I’m not sure what I’m doing, it seems to work. New shapes show up around me, and they’re as unsettling as the others were boring. The music they emit makes me wonder if I’m about to see a future where I personally skin every fluffy kitten on Earth in a ritual to make Tartarus go away.
Or make soup out of Fluffster and Lucifur.
Leave it to fate to turn something good—like preventing apocalypse—into something bad.
Metaphorically shivering, I float for a bit, unsure if I dare to touch the shapes in question.
Well, there’s no helping it.
I must know.
Gathering my courage, I reach for the nearest shape and ready myself for the worst.
Chapter Two
I wake up to the sound of familiar voices.
“ Batman v Superman should still have a higher score on the movie review sites,” Ariel says from somewhere. “Even the last Matrix movie—your own least favorite—has higher ratings.”
“Why do you always have to bring The Matrix into it?” Felix grumbles. “Is it because you’re still jealous that the first Matrix has better scores than any Batman ever?”
“I’m not going there again,” Ariel says, and I can almost see her eyeroll. “You must at least agree that Armageddon —a movie that also stars Ben Affleck—shouldn’t have a higher score than Batman v Superman .”
The word Armageddon sends a jolt of adrenaline through my system, dispelling